


Love You Lately

by taishige



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, TOKIO
Genre: Collars, Fuck why did I write this?, Leader in an oversized shirt, M/M, Not Happy, Sudden downturn into hell, Things that seem sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taishige/pseuds/taishige
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nagase can quit Leader anytime he wants to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love You Lately

**Author's Note:**

> Short. Random. This wasn't what I planned on writing tonight.

Nagase Tomoya wasn't gay.

How else would he have gotten the nickname "Big Thunder" amongst the girls at the clubs he went to?

How else would he have snagged girlfriends like Ayu and Aibu and left them begging for more once the night was through?

How else would he have amassed a stockpile of forgotten ladies' clothing items and accessories that he kept in one of the drawers in his closet?

No, Nagase Tomoya wasn't gay.

It simply happened that after their concerts, more often than not, he'd wind up with a Joshima in his bed.

It helped that Joshima _was_ gay.

It helped that they were always sweaty and riled up and on an eternal high made from adrenaline and the beer they always partook in afterwards.

It helped that Joshima had to wear all that tight-fitting clothing and move and gyrate all over the stage while giving him that _look_.

It helped that Joshima's mouth curved so smugly when he was looking down at Nagase, hand down his pants and setting his lower half on fire.

"Why don't you just go find some girl to fuck if you're always so horny after concerts?" Joshima was buttoning one of Nagase's oversized shirts across his shoulders, the fabric sagging down like a nightgown over his unclothed legs.

"S'not the same." Nagase came out of the bathroom, electric razor buzzing as he cleaned up some of the errant stubble on his chin.

Liv padded her way into the bedroom, tail wagging as she whined at Joshima from the other side of the bed. Joshima responded by sprawling out towards her, recently donned shirt riding up his back as he reached his hand out to scritch the back of her head.

Nagase stared at the part of Joshima's rear end that was now exposed, wondering if they had time for one more go before he had to leave for his meeting.

It wasn't like he suddenly turned gay or anything during their tours. It was just something about the atmosphere. About the heat in his chest that built and built while they were on stage. About the way he could curl his arm around Joshima's neck and bring him in close in front of thousands of screaming fans. Could grind up his backside as he sang the words to the songs he knew by heart, the other man shuddering beneath him.

"Are you sure this is... what you want...?"

Joshima was straddled over the top of him, hair pulled out of its pony-tail and falling off his shoulders as he stared down at Nagase below him.

"Fuck, yes. God, yes." Nagase's hands were curled around Joshima's midsection, up, down, up, down, as his legs pushed his hips up off the bed and his dick deeper in Joshima's rear.

Joshima fell asleep that night a mess of sheets, hair sticking to his forehead and one arm angled back across Nagase's chest. Nagase fell asleep with his mouth open and his snores drifting up to the ceiling.

Once their Budoukan performances were over, Nagase went back to his gaggle of girls and Joshima went back to his two to three week relationships with guys he met at some of the lesser-known gay bars in the Tokyo metro. For 11 months of the year, they lived their normal lives and talked to each other as if nothing was amiss. Joshima even attempted to give Nagase girl advice from time to time, though Nagase never trusted it.

"I see you left on what I planned specially for your outfit." Nagase's face was pressed into Joshima's neck, one finger tracing along the length of the dog collar fastened around it.

It was after their 15th anniversary concert and Joshima was perched in Nagase's lap, hands running through the ragged mess of curls that was Nagase's hair. "I should have expected something like this when I first heard you were planning everyone's outfits for this tour." He ducked his head down, bringing both of their foreheads together so he could smirk knowingly in the other's line of sight.

Nagase let his hand trace down the other's back, dipping beneath the fabric of his pants as his other hand reached for the bedside table. "I have no idea what you could be talking about, good sir." He grabbed Liv's leash, wrapping it slowly around his hand while he lapped up Joshima's chin with his tongue.

With a tinny click, the clasp of the leash hooked itself around the collar, and Nagase pulled on it with a smirk of his own.

Nagase was perfectly fine with this arrangement the two of them had started.

Joshima fell forward onto him, knocking them both back onto the bed. Grin widening, Nagase pulled on the leash again until their mouths connected, and then they were feeding on each other, tongues fighting for dominance as Nagase's hand went all the way down the back of the other's pants, already-slick fingers pushing up against fabric as they began bobbing in and out, in and out.

He wasn't gay, so it wasn't like he needed this or anything. It was just a fun way to let off steam.

Joshima's hands were buried deep into the bedding, head pulled backwards as Nagase fucked him from behind, fingers that normally ran up and down frets now working that same magic on his dick as each thrust pushed his knees into the mattress with such force he'd have red lines etched across them when they were finished.

Nagase pulled up harder on the leash, bringing Joshima with it, flush against his chest. He let an arm slip around his midsection, smooth skin a wonderful contrast to his burly arms as he buried his face in the back of the other's neck and continued to thrust forward with his hips.

Joshima fell asleep that night curled in a ball with the sheets looped haphazardly about his legs. Nagase fell asleep with that same ball wrapped in his arms and pressed tight against his chest.

He could quit anytime he wanted to.

The next morning, Joshima made the coffee, standing in the kitchen wearing nothing but that same button-up shirt of Nagase's that he'd grown to love so much.

He could quit anytime he wanted to.

Nagase looped his arm around Joshima's neck, pulling him back against him and pushing his chin into the tangled locks of his hair, planting a kiss on top of his head.

He could quit.

The doorbell to Joshima's apartment rang, clock reading 2:00 a.m. and rain thundering down on the windowpane. Nagase was at the door, soaked to the bone and shivering but staring at him with an intensity Joshima'd never seen before.

He could.

Nagase rushed forward, Joshima to his chest. There was a hiccough, and Joshima shuddered against him. It seemed like hours but in reality only a few minutes. They just stood there. Joshima's shivers had stopped.

There were tears running down Nagase's eyes, intermixed with the rain, dripping down into Joshima's hair. The other man's hands had loosened in their grip on his jacket, gone slack, limp, his body settled against his, warm and soft.

Nagase pulled away, taking the knife with him.

Drops of red fell to the floor, splattering, his hands stained crimson and shaking, shaking, shaking.

Joshima's body almost toppled over, but Nagase caught it, cradling it, his hands to Joshima's cheeks, tears overtaking his vision as his fingers left bloody streaks down the other's jaw and neck.

"I'm sorry."

Joshima looked so peaceful somehow.

"I'm sorry."

Quit.


End file.
